Wicked Kyd and Silent Jericho
by ej8012
Summary: A series of oneshots about a Kyd and Jericho friendship. Prompt Four: Breakfast; And all he wanted was some pancakes...
1. Talent Show

**A/N: **I was going through the my old stories... And I saw 'Two Mutes' which is a story about Kyd and Jericho meeting and becoming friends. So I decided to make a series of oneshots, of sorts. They may/may not be connected, but I doubt it... So enjoy. I hope this is something you can enjoy XD Also, prompts are just things I made up XD

**Prompt: Talent Show**

Nervously holding his guitar, his green eyes scanning the sparsely filled auditorium, Jericho wondered if he should just give up before even trying out. He had been told by his friends that he could do this. Kole, with her crazily colored hair and equally crazy personally, Robin, with his team-leader and hero of all style, and by pretty much everyone else in the school. It had all started when Kole had seen him in the park, strumming the strings of his guitar, eyes closed as he listened to the sounds. Jericho was not very good with crowds. He enjoyed nature, being away from the noise and clutter of society. So what exactly was he doing, about to play in front of at least thirty people?

"Elliot Kid?" A voice called out, calling up the next entry. Instantly, the room fell quiet as all eyes fell onto the new figure. And what a strange figure he was. Jericho didn't know this Elliot by the name only, and by his appearance... Well Elliot was the kind of person you noticed and remembered. Silently, the pale figure went up onto the stage.

He had pale skin, pale like a vampire or similar creature. His eyes were a ruby (or, a dark part of Jericho's mind whispered, blood) red and gleamed in the harsh auditorium light. He had jet-black hair that was cut short, and spiky enough to be noticeable, but not too spiky to the point were it looked fake. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt, which was apt considering it was fall, and black jeans that were slightly faded at the knees. Not punk, not Goth, not Emo, not really anything. He just seemed to be the kind of kid who wore a lot of black.

"You are playing... Something on the piano. It says here you made it yourself." The entire thing was being run by student council, which in turn was led by Robin and Raven (president and vice-president respectively). Robin sounded a little skeptical about Elliot, but he was required to give everyone a chance. And Robin always played by the rules.

Elliot nodded and walked over to the piano, sitting off to the side of the large (and nearly empty) stage. He sat down and seemed to pause, his fingers drifting over the keys without making a sound. He closed his eyes and then he started to play.

It was a bittersweet melody, one with love and kindness, hate and betrayal. It was both good and evil, all put together into a magical tune. It was like something out of a fairy tale, dancing around the room as Elliot's fingers hit the keys, and as the teenager played out the beat. It swelled into a crescendo, a beautiful swan flying around the room. It ended with a crash, the sound of thunder hitting the ground. Then a soft, elegant sound started up and it felt like a cool fall breeze, brushing past your face with its careful caress.

Then it drifted off and Elliot was done, the song was done. Everyone seemed to snap out of a dream and Jericho felt himself starting to panic. How was he supposed to compete with something like that? It would be like arguing with a god! Even Raven seemed a little speechless.

"W-Wow... That was... That was excellent. T-Thank you for entering." The girl managed to say. Robin ran a hand through his carefully spiked hair.

"I agree. I don't think I've heard anything as good as that before." Elliot nodded politely before stepping off the stage. None of the other students approached Elliot. Whether his performance had left them all in shock, or seeing his fierce red eyes scared them away, Jericho didn't know. But he took a shaky breath and stepped forward. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he leaned his guitar against the wall as he started to sign out hello and tell Elliot he had done really well. The pale-skinned boy seemed surprised for a moment; perhaps he didn't expect a mute at the school. Either way, several tense seconds went by before Elliot's own fingers started to fly.

He said thanks, and that he was sure that... Wait, he changed his motions and asked what Jericho's name was. Jericho replied with his own name, and Elliot nodded. Elliot said he was sure that Jericho would do well too. Replying with a thanks, their conversation was cut short when Robin called out Jericho's name. Good luck, motioned Elliot. Jericho nodded as he grabbed his guitar.

"You're also playing something you came up with. Alrighty then..." Robin motioned for Jericho to start. The blond nodded and took a deep breath. He decided to sit down, because that was how he usually played. So crossed-legged, eyes closed, he started to play.

* * *

Elliot hadn't know that there was another mute at the school. If he had, well, that might have made school a little easier to tolerate. Instead he was stuck with friends that tried, but just couldn't, relate to him. He buried himself in work instead of play, and finally, in an act of desperation, sought music as a sweet release to all his problems. It had worked.

Jericho couldn't have looked more different from Elliot, though. While Elliot's nickname was Demon Boy (thanks to the school bullies, though his friends were more considerate), Jericho looked more like a hippie, to be completely honest. Elliot knew he should leave (Seymour could only wait so long in his car) but something told him to wait and watch Jericho play. After all, Seymour wouldn't ditch his best friend.

Jericho started to strum the strings and it wasn't really any recognizable pattern. He did this for the first five seconds, but then he started to really play. His movements were slow at first, nearly lazy, but then one of his hands started to fly up and down the guitar, changing the notes before the strings were even done moving.

It wasn't beautiful, it wasn't terrible. It was, for lack of a better comparison, more like life. Normalcy was thrown into their ears, their sense over-taken by the sounds. It was nature, sounding like a companion to your average bird call. The wind snaked its way into the sounds, somehow, adding the feeling that they were outdoors (even though it was obvious they weren't). It reminded Elliot of the time he had, on a whim, gone to the park on a sunny spring day. The sounds of nature had run over him, calming tense nerves and destroying his headache. It wasn't pure beauty, not like some songs. It was more of a natural beauty, the flowers blossoming into colors on every side of the spectrum, butterflies in the day and fireflies at night.

Elliot found himself listening with his eyes closed, and forced them back open like one would force themselves awake in the morning. He realized that he hadn't been the only one; everyone else except for Raven and Robin had closed their eyes while listening to the tune. Raven looked like she always did, and Robin's eyes were hidden behind the dark shades he insisted on wearing. But something told Elliot that they were just as enthralled with the music as everyone else.

Jericho's fingers finally slowed down, retreating back into the tuneless, patternless strumming he had started with. Everyone seemed to wake from their dreams, and some even yawned. Then Jericho stopped playing and he opened his own eyes, which were the most amazing green Elliot had seen before. They were brighter then fresh grass, lighter then leaves.

Jericho stood up and listened to praise from both Raven and Robin, and when he stepped off the stage he walked over to Elliot and silently asked if Elliot liked the music. Elliot said that is was amazing, and that they would have to play together sometime.

And, somehow, a chance meeting turned into a silent agreement to meet again, and play a song of sadness, of tragedy, of lost friends and about lost love, and (most important of all) hope.


	2. Carnival

**Prompt: **Carnival

He still couldn't believe that he was actually standing next to a stall in the annual Jump City Carnival, bright lights and shouting invading his senses. Not so much that he didn't have the money, or the time, to attend. More like it wasn't something he'd go to. _It was a bloody carnival, _for crying out loud! Nevertheless, there Elliot was. And if standing next to the stall (bright lights and brightly painted signs declaring you could win various prizes) wasn't bad enough, he was actually shelling over five dollars for three shots. Bloody con-artist, the lot of them.

Jericho was watching intently, surprised his friend was getting so into it. It had taken the blond ages to convince Elliot to attend; to leave his safe and comfortable house for the crazy and chaotic fair. But it was one of the biggest events the city held, with everything from animal shows to flaming sword-throwers and everything in-between. That wasn't to say Jericho was disappointed; he was ecstatic that his usually quiet and concealed friend was opening up. Somewhat.

"Three shots to knock down all the bottles! If you knock 'em all over, you get a large prize! If you knock three down, you get a small prize! If you knock 'em all down in one shot, you get a large an' small prize!" The man in the booth announced, his voice much louder then it needed to be. Jericho watched as Elliot nodded and picked up one of the wooden balls.

Elliot wasn't a hundred percent what he was doing. He wasn't very good at sports, except running because he was constantly trying to stay away from his crazy adoptive siblings. He had no use for any of the cheesy prizes either; who in the world _wanted _a stuffed chicken anyway? Elliot regarded the bottles, shaped like milk bottles, and the smooth wood under his fingers.

A chilly fall day, Elliot wore a black sweater and black jeans, all of which were spotless and as neat as you could get. His short black hair was gelled to perfection as well, neatly keeping out of his eyes and face. His bright red eyes, which usually scared people away, were attentive as he breathed in. Hopefully he wouldn't embarrass himself too badly in front of Jericho, who was pretty much his only friend. His only friend in his entire life.

THWACK! The ball left his hand with a quick speed, and slammed into the middle of the bottle pyramid nicely. The top and middle two bottles fell with a clatter. Jericho looked at Elliot with mild surprise. Elliot was a book kind of person, not sports.

"Good shot, sir! Two more shots for the prize! Two more!" Elliot nodded and paused as Jericho smiled at him. Elliot returned the smile, though his was much weaker and seemed a little forced, as were all of Elliot's smiles.

Jericho wore a long white shirt underneath a dark purple vest. He wore blue jeans that had a mix of paint stains and oil stains. Jericho was one of those people who were great at everything they tried. Taking painting and wood shop, both of which already required a certain amount of skill, and doing well in both classes? And Jericho knew how to play two instruments, and played them regularly. Elliot couldn't help but be a little jealous of his skills.

Elliot let the second ball fly, and it knocked out two of the remaining three bottles. Another clatter, and the booth man let out another shout about prizes and winning. The sounds of the carnival (cheering, bells, rides, shouting) ran over Elliot like a mob. Elliot wasn't used to so much noise; he wasn't sure if he liked it.

Jericho walked up to his friend and patted him on the back, the look in his eyes congratulating him on his two good throws. While Jericho was good at things like painting and playing instruments, Elliot was good at science, math, and the like. Things that involved lots of reading, which was his style. Neither boy were very good at sports, in all honesty.

"One more shot, sir! Make it, and you can win a glorious prize!" The man said, his smile all teeth. It looked fake to Elliot, but he didn't really care. Elliot faked smiles all the time, after all. "I wish you luck! Win a fabulous prize for yourself, or maybe a special someone!" The man added. Elliot nearly rolled his eyes. Did he really look like the kind of person to have a 'special someone'? He was too busy with school, after all.

Elliot took a deep breath and was about to throw the last ball when Jericho suddenly stopped him. Jericho motioned for Elliot to pass him the ball, which the black-haired boy did with only a little confusion. Elliot trusted Jericho completely, after all.

Jericho wasn't sure what he was doing. He couldn't throw the ball! He was terrible at sports! And Elliot had been doing so well... He didn't want to disappoint his friend. Shaking his head (and fears) aside, Jericho took a breath and threw the ball.

THWACK! It landed solidly, taking down the last bottle like a feather in the wind. Jericho breathed a sigh of relief as the man in the booth gave them a cheesy grin.

"Congratulations, sirs! You have won your choice of our big prizes!" He told them, shouting over the white noise of the carnival. Elliot nodded and looked at Jericho, raising an eyebrow, as if to ask what Jericho wanted. Jericho shrugged, seeing as he didn't care. Besides, it was Elliot's prize. He had done all the work, and it had been Elliot's money.

Elliot looked up at the prizes and pointed to one. The man nodded and grabbed it for them, using a long metal pole to fetch it from the long rack above their heads. Jericho looked at it with slight confusion. What was Elliot thinking? That was nothing like him.

It was a giant, fluffy, absolutely over the top and ridiculous, sheep. The fur was fluffed up to the point where Jericho would have sworn it was larger then most dogs, and it had the kind of eyes you'd see on a child's toy.

Elliot gave a nod of thanks to the man in the booth and started to walk away, Jericho running forward to catch up. Jericho motioned with his hands his question, though he wanted to ask much more. What in the world was Elliot going to do with a giant stuffed sheep? What would Elliot's brothers and sister say?

Elliot didn't like talking about them, seeing as he didn't really consider them his family anyway, but Jericho knew they bugged him about every little thing. They were a bunch of punks, pretending to be all bad and really just being jerks. Elliot was the only decent person in the family, Jericho thought. Even his adoptive mother and father... They fostered all the children and only worried about keeping a good image.

Elliot, seeing as his hands were full of fluff and stuff, passed the stuffed sheep to Jericho so he could reply. He said nothing, literally. He wasn't going to do anything with it? Jericho, more confused then ever, tried to pass the sheep back to Elliot. Jericho's fellow mute shook his head and pointed to Jericho. Then, it made sense to Jericho.

Fighting down a blush, Jericho glared at Elliot's silent laughter. Elliot motioned another thing, and Jericho's blush fell a little. Elliot said that they were good friends, and Jericho was really the only special person in Elliot's life.

Figuring that was a fine answer for him, Jericho nodded as they walked on. Jericho then spotted another booth, where you could try to fish out a plastic fish and win a real goldfish. Time for a little revenge...

After all, if Elliot was allowed to get Jericho a ridiculous stuffed sheep, Jericho was allowed to give Elliot a fish.


	3. Boarding School

**Prompt: **Boarding School

To say Jericho was nervous was to be saying a major understatement. To say Jericho was terrified, to the point where he felt like he was going to be sick, was much more accurate, if not as good for Jericho's self-esteem. Luckily, Jericho had experience moving schools in the middle of the school year. His father changed jobs so Jericho would stay in clothes, and Jericho couldn't blame him for that. And now Jericho had some kind of a chance for normality.

A boarding school meant Jericho wouldn't have to change districts every time his father changed jobs, and that meant kids who bullied him wouldn't see him everyday… Oh, who was Jericho kidding. The mute was terrified.

"You're the new student, aren't you?" The girl who spoke looked cheerful, like the kind of girl who everyone was a friend with, whether or not they wanted to be friends. Jericho nodded, since he (obviously) couldn't speak. "Oh! My name is Kori! This is Rachel, my friend! You must meet Richard! He-" Kori was silenced by a glare from Rachel, who Jericho made a mental note to never anger. She seemed… Depressed. It was really the only word Jericho could come up with.

"Sorry about that. I think the office will have your dorm and schedule. Building A, right in front. Just keep walking inside, and go into the building with huge glass double doors. The clerk will probably recognize you from school photos." Rachel said, pointing towards the direction Jericho should walk. Jericho nodded his thanks and followed the girl's instructions. She seemed nicer once she spoke, Jericho thought to himself. He, out of all people, should have known better then to make rash decisions about people.

* * *

His room's location was decent, Jericho decided. It was on the third floor, as opposed to the fourth, and near the stairs (and elevator). It looked like he was sharing, though, which was part of the reason Jericho had yet to open the door (he had trouble thinking of the room as his own). The other was that he was having trouble recalling what his new student ID was. Changing cities, and even states, on a regular basis, he usually had to write down his ID until he could remember it.

Jericho hadn't had that chance yet, and actually didn't know if students _had _student IDs in private schools. Sighing, Jericho looked at the keypad that locked the door. He tried to open it, though he knew it wasn't going to help. It didn't, and remained locked. Sighing again, Jericho leaned his suitcase against the wall and was about to knock when he heard the sound of an elevator reaching the floor. Out walked three boys, all chatting about a game they had just been playing.

"Don't worry, grass-head, you'll grow soon enough… Like in a million years!" One of them, a tall African-American boy, said, laughing. Another, with jet-black hair and sunglasses covering his face, laughed as well. The last, a skinny teenager with green (yes, green) hair, scowled.

"The only reason you two won was because my partner can't play any sports outside of water! He was a freaking fish outta water!" He complained. The trio stopped speaking as they noticed Jericho. The one with the sunglasses walked forward, giving Jericho a small smile.

"You must be new here. Can't get in?" He asked. Jericho wondered if the school was small enough so that everyone knew each other, and dismissed the idea. Four floors for two dorm buildings, and two students per dorm… No, maybe he just happened to run into the only people to know everyone else? Then Jericho realized something; he had yet to receive a school uniform. That would be why…

"Hey, it's actually really easy. Y'know the password the office gave yah when you came?" The boy with green hair had seen Jericho's distracted look and offered to help. For some reason, Jericho had a feeling the greenette had had trouble opening his door at first, too. Jericho shrugged, holding his hands up. He hadn't really been paying attention, hoping the maps the clerk had given him would be enough to get him around.

"Oh… Well, here." The teen with sunglasses moved forward, pulling out what looked like lock-picks out of his pocket. Seeing Jericho's startled look, the African-American laughed.

"Don't worry, Dick only uses them on important matters. Like getting into locked out rooms, for example." His tone was friendly, though, and Jericho had a feeling he was just trying to make friends with a scared new kid. Jericho nodded, but 'Dick' seemed to be having trouble. He frowned as he straightened up, shrugging at Jericho.

"New locks don't have any way to get to the wires underneath the keyboard. Figures, one of the few doors the board decides to upgrade, and it's the one we need to get into. Any idea who you're bunking with?" Dick asked. Jericho shook his head, and all four of them were surprised to hear the elevator arriving on their floor again. Jericho had a feeling it was the time of day everyone did their best to _not _be by the dorms, or even inside. After all, it was a nice fall day.

"Ah, I gotta take a shower before dinner. Can't have Rachel complaining about my manliness, after all." The greenette muttered under his breath, shooting Jericho and the others a cocky grin. The African-American boy rolled his eyes but followed, muttering something about making sure grass-head didn't take all the warm water. Jericho was left with Dick and whoever had left the elevator, and seeing him Jericho wasn't surprised at all that 'grass-head' and his friend had left.

The emerging student had pale white skin, like a vampire, and blood-red eyes. His hair made Dick's look pale, though Jericho knew they were probably the same hue. His skin looked even paler against a black turtleneck and black jeans. He held books under one arm and had a black backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Oh. Hello, Elliot. Have you met the new student? Erm…" Dick trailed off, probably just realizing that he had yet to know Jericho's name. Elliot shook his head and stuck out a hand. It took Jericho a moment to realize that Elliot wanted to shake his hand. Jericho shook it, and had to admit that it felt like a normal hand; warm. Jericho felt a little embarrassed, but signed his name quickly, hoping that Dick or Elliot knew basic sign language.

Elliot's eyes went wide, and Jericho actually took a moment to realize that the other boy was replying in sign language. He said his name was, yes, Elliot, and it was nice to meet Jericho. Dick looked relieved.

"Ah, well that's good. Elliot, I think Jericho is sharing a room with you. Show him the ropes, ok? Gotta get ready, promised I'd meet Kori and Rachel later today." Dick walked away from the two mutes, and Jericho was glad to say it didn't look like he was running away from two crazies.

'You don't know your password, do you?' Elliot asked. Jericho nodded, and Elliot looked like he sighed. Jericho moved out of his way as Elliot quickly punched in his own, the door swinging open. Elliot walked in, not waiting for Jericho.

The room itself was simple. The walls were painted black on the bottom, had a white stripe running through the middle, and the top was painted gray. Elliot had simple furniture that, no surprise, was black or gray. Only Jericho's side was unpainted, and had only a bed, bookshelf, and desk.

Elliot threw his things on his bed, placing his books on his desk, and sat on his bed. He motioned for Jericho to do the same. Once Jericho had sat down, Elliot immediately asked for more information on Jericho.

As he started to reply, Jericho had a feeling that this school was going to be more enjoyable then the last dozen.

**A/N: **Now I want to write a school AU with the Titans… XD Already working on a few things, though, so it has to wait… XD Hope you enjoyed! And you know what I enjoy? Reviews XD


	4. Breakfast

**A/N: **Ok, the idea is originally from Concolor44 (.net/s/6812129/1/). His (I think they're a guy…) _[insert from Concolor44: Yes, I possess a Y-chromosome.]_ idea is that there is a place called Benny's Breakfast House, which will serve anyone (hero or villain, or whatever) no matter what. They have pretty much everything and anything, from food Star will eat to normal pancakes. And many, many people go through the doors.

Check out the story if you like Teen Titans, period. It's awesome.

**Prompt: **Breakfast

* * *

Jericho usually ate some yak cheese and bread for breakfast, on the top of his (relatively warm) mountain, before playing his guitar and thinking for the rest of the day. Of course, Jericho also lived in Tibet, where yaks were the only animals within five thousand miles, and you'd be lucky if anyone could understand American Sign Language.

Still, the idea of eating something relatively normal was… Abstract. So it was no surprise when Jericho, who had recently come to Jump City to spend some time in civilization, wanted to eat a good meal. Wait, scratch that. A good, relatively _normal_ meal.

"Hey, Jericho. Cyborg and Beast Boy are out on patrol, but they'll be back around lunch. I'm going to be working in my room, and Raven is meditating, so please try not to bother either of us. I'm not sure where Starfire is, actually. She kind of just left this morning…" Robin shrugged. "You can handle yourself, and Jump is a lot safer than it used to be… But be careful. There's still a few big villains out there." Robin added before walking off, heading to his room.

Jericho sighed, though he hadn't really expected anything different. Of course the Titans would be busy doing something, and besides, who would want to go eat with a mute? He couldn't carry on a conversation, he couldn't express much emotion, and his silence usually unnerved people. That didn't make it much better, though.

He quickly grabbed his guitar before he left, on a whim. He didn't think he'd need it, since he doubted he would get attacked, but maybe he'd go to the park and play later. It always made him smile, seeing children laugh as he played a tune, seeing them sitting around him in a circle, mesmerized by the music.

With his guitar in hand, Jericho walked out the doors of Titan Tower.

* * *

And was quickly, and repeatedly, annoyed. After leaving the third restaurant, Jericho was close to giving up. He knew he should have brought something to write on! He should have known that the chances of meeting another person who knew sign language, even the basics, were minimal. And those chances were the same as the chances of his being able to get seated.

It was more difficult then he thought, since he was usually restricted to wildly waving his arms to get a person's attention, and when he did he was unable to tell them his name. This led to mass confusion, anger because the waitress/waiter thought he was playing a joke, and leaving with a mounting frustration.

Jericho kicked a soda can quickly as he passed it, the metal object flying across the street and landing in an alley. Jericho scowled; a rare expression on his usually peaceful face. His guitar was slung across his back now, since he didn't want to hold it for the whole day. He also didn't want to hit anyone with it on accident.

_Maybe I should just give up,_ he thought. He could get something to eat at Titans Tower anyway, and while his cooking was about as good as Raven's (the witch had been dragged into making a meal for Jericho by Starfire), it was at least food. _I'll just pick up the can and throw it away,_ Jericho thought, _and then I'll go back._ While some people thought it was strange, his habit of picking up litter, he thought it was perfectly normal. Seeing the wonder of nature in his home, Jericho hated the thought of even one piece of trash lying around.

It was while he was picking up the can that he heard it. A kind of grinding noise, like boxes being pushed over each other. Curious, Jericho threw the can into a nearby dumpster and looked around the alley, trying to find where the noise was coming from. A pile of boxes, stacked just like a pillow fort, lay on the far side of the dumpster.

Tempted to leave, since Jericho was certain it was just some kind of homeless person who would rather not be bothered, Jericho decided he should at least look. It could be something like an abandoned animal, which would need help. Or maybe a man with a cold who just needed a warm place to stay for a night.

Jericho knelt down in front of the stacked boxes, peering into the darkness. Then he jumped back, startled by what he had seen.

Two red eyes, like a vampire's, stared out at him.

Frightened, Jericho was about to bolt out of the alley when reality calmed him. Vampires weren't real, and besides, it was during the day. There were plenty of people right outside the alley, who would hear if he was attacked, though he could probably deal with any problems. And then the choice was taken away from him, when the person inside the fort of boxes stood up.

The boxes tumbled down, and the first thing Jericho noticed was that the person seemed to be wearing some kind of cloak or jacket, which trailed on the ground. It was probably once very nice, but now it was ragged, with several cuts in the fabric. It might have once been attached to something, but now was tied around the person's neck like a child would tie on a cap. The second thing was that the person appeared to have gray-white skin.

The figure wasn't much taller than Jericho, and they might have actually been the same height. Still, the bright red eyes flashed through Jericho's mind and he found himself frozen, though he didn't have any rational fear. The figure turned around, and Jericho found himself recognizing the face.

_Kyd Wykkyd? _Jericho signed in the air, hands trembling. _What are you doing here? _Jericho asked. He wasn't usually one for conversation, especially not with villains, but seeing the teenage villain… Kyd Wykkyd had fallen. It was the only way to put it in Jericho's mind, and was not far from the truth.

Kyd Wykkyd looked Jericho in the eyes, and a whole wave of sorrow and pain rushed over Jericho. Whatever had happened to Wykkyd, it was not pretty.

_I know…. I know a place we could go. To talk. I'll explain there…. Or you can arrest me now. I'm tired of running. I just… _Wykkyd looked like he was going to cry, and even though it broke a million and one hero rules, Jericho found himself nodding.

Seconds later Jericho was walking down a city street, Kyd Wykkyd at his side.

* * *

Jericho wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't a normal looking restaurant with an old, fat man as the cook, and a blond waitress that wasn't as old as the cook, but was older then Jericho. Of course, that wasn't really what Jericho was concentrating on when he and Wykkyd sat down at one of the booths.

"Need a menu, hons?" The waitress said, seemingly teleporting to the side of the booth the moment the two teens sat down. Jericho started to shake his head but stopped, and nodded. Kyd shook his head, and Jericho gave him a questioning look.

_Tell you later. _Wykkyd signed. Jericho nodded as a menu was placed in front of him, the waitress moving to serve others in the breakfast crowd. Which, as Jericho quickly scanned the building, was one of the strangest he had ever seen.

Starfire sat in a booth alone, eating what had to be the most bizarre food Jericho had to have ever seen. Then Jericho looked around and saw Flash ordering a cup of extremely large coffee (which was the size of a large soda, and which Jericho had no doubt would let Flash go even faster than usual), with Mad Mod eating a scone and reading a British newspaper.

Whatever this place was, Jericho had a feeling it was strange. _How did you find this place? _Jericho asked Kyd. Kyd wouldn't meet Jericho's eyes as he replied, _Jinx… She showed it to us, once. _And nothing more. Jericho took the villain's silence as a chance to look at him, and really see what was wrong.

Wykkyd's clothes were the first things Jericho looked at. While Jericho knew Kyd Wykkyd as a neat and clean villain who had soft and shiny black and purple clothes, this Kyd had smears of mud all over him. His clothes were torn in more places than Jericho bothered to count, and the cape was, as Jericho had noticed earlier, tied on instead of attached to Kyd Wykkyd's shirt. The purple was darker, and Wykkyd's gloves were worn down.

Kyd Wykkyd looked different physically too. While Jericho had thought Wykkyd's eyes were still bright red, they were actually a murky red, and had a dull glaze to them. His skin, usually a pasty white, was now a murky gray kind of color. Jericho could only attribute it all to living on the streets, which begged the big question.

_What were you doing on the streets? _Jericho asked. The mute wasn't sure if Kyd had seen him, since Kyd was still looking at the table, but Kyd slowly replied: _We've been falling apart… Billy, Mammoth, and Gizmo all left after Jinx disappeared. See-More tried to stick around, but left after them._

Jericho didn't believe it. He knew the Hive Five had lost Jinx, of course, since the spell caster had been converted by Kid Flash, but didn't have any idea what had happened to the Hive Five. They still broke into places, but when Jericho thought about it, usually it was just Mammoth and Gizmo, and none of the others. Apparently those two were still together, but the rest … They had only been seen solo, and the Titans had assumed they were working together …

_Why? _Jericho asked. Kyd Wykkyd looked up, and Jericho winced. The once bright eyes, burning with some kind of intelligence, looked like the eyes of a beaten and crushed puppy.

_Jinx kept us together. She left, and we fell apart. _Wykkyd replied simply. Jericho didn't know what to say. What could he say? It was like hearing the Titans East had broken up. Sure, Jericho wasn't very close to either group, but he knew (or thought he knew) they were as thick as thieves … Literally, in some cases.

_You've been living alone? On the streets? _Jericho asked. Kyd nodded, and Jericho felt like the wind had been knocked out of his chest. The idea of anyone he knew, even a villain, living on the cold streets all alone, was shocking. He knew that people lived like that; of course, he just never thought it would touch his small world. Obviously he had been wrong.

_Why haven't you tried to get help? _Jericho asked, even though he already knew the answer.

_I'm a thief. You guys would get the news I turned up in a shelter and demand answers out of me, and then send me to jail. But now … _Wykkyd didn't sign anything more, and that was good because Jericho was too busy thinking.

Kyd Wykkyd was a thief. A villain. The bad guy. The person heroes threw in jail and threw away the key. Ok, maybe not that much. But still, Kyd Wykkyd was bad. He had stolen things, and attacked civilians, and attacked the Titans. He had been a member of the Hive Five for crying out loud! They were one of the most infamous villain groups in Jericho's generation, if not the most infamous. Well, mostly because they were terrible, but that was beside the point. But did that make it all right for Kyd to be living on the streets?

Part of Jericho wanted to say yes. Kyd Wykkyd must have known what he might be dealing with, being a thief. He was getting what he deserved! But Jericho couldn't accept that. It was one of his weaknesses; he couldn't see someone needing help and just let them be.

"Know whatcha want, hon?" The waitress suddenly asked, appearing out of nowhere. The question caught Jericho off guard, his gaze slipping from Kyd Wykkyd to the woman. Jericho hesitated, unsure if the woman would understand him even if he did order. He slipped a look at Kyd, and saw the villain was resting his head on the cool surface of the table.

His eyes were closed, and he looked like he had fallen asleep. He looked peaceful, and for the first time, Jericho saw a person who just needed help.

_I'll take a glass of orange juice, two scrambled eggs, and bacon on the side. _Jericho signed, hoping she understood. He wasn't sure he could repeat it. The waitress just nodded, a slim piece of hair falling out of her hair bun.

"Gotcha, hon." She said, drifting off to tell the cook Jericho's order. Kyd opened his eyes, looking more weary then before. He now looked like a beaten puppy that hadn't had sleep in the past twenty-four hours. Thinking about it, maybe Kyd hadn't been sleeping.

Suddenly, Kyd Wykkyd sat up and climbed out of the booth. He wobbled as he stood, a thin arm shooting out and grabbing the booth's side for balance. In a flash Jericho stood, helping Kyd stand. Jericho gave Kyd a soft push towards the booth, but it caused the villain to stumble and sit right back down.

_What was that for? _Kyd asked, trying to glare at Jericho. His glare lacked any venom, and Jericho had felt more threatened by yak herders. Jericho didn't sign anything, but motioned for the waitress to come over, catching her attention with a frantic wave.

"Yes, hon?" She asked.

_I'll have another glass of juice, a breakfast omelet, and a side of ham and bacon. _Jericho told her. She nodded, writing his order down, and walked back to the cook to add in Jericho's second order.

_What are you doing? _Kyd Wykkyd asked as Jericho sat back down. Jericho noticed that Wykkyd was sitting in his seat properly again, and didn't look like he was going to leave.

_You need to eat. _Jericho replied calmly. Kyd hesitated, than nodded. Jericho looked at Kyd's eyes, thinking something was different.

Now, instead of a dull gleam of someone without hope, they had the bright awareness of someone who had just been thrown a lifeline.


End file.
